25 Minutes
by myars
Summary: When I felt my concentration and resolve slipping my mind would escape to her. I had to constantly remind myself, his hits aren’t as hard as hers, the sight of my battered body not as saddening as the sight of her tear streaked face... PruxHung.


**25 Minutes**

Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia I wouldn't be writing fanfics.

WARNING: Muddled historical facts, the story happens in chronological order however, the times where each historical event happens are NOT accurate. The fall of the Berlin wall was way before the other event that happens (you will know what I mean once you read). This was for the sake of writing a good story, I'm not good at history;;;

---

It has been nearly thirty years since I have heard anything.

My cell wasn't soundproof, no, only the polar opposite could be true. I could hear _everything_, especially the small sounds: the scrapping of boots on concrete, the clinking of my own chains, the high pitched metallic rattling of metal bars as bone chilling wind passed through my poorly insulated cell. In fact, I was surprised within the first few hours of my imprisonment just how distinct and loud those small sounds were. The astounding volume and clarity of every whisper and semblance of movement that slipped in beyond my enclosure held the same allure as a baited hook would hold for a starved fish.

Worse yet, the sounds that would echo in my mind came with the same false sense of hope, small and as fragile as glass that would nevertheless spread like a wildfire through my soul. This closely followed by that same crumbling, maddening disappointment that steadily drove me to frenzied thrashing and creating in me the desperate strangled cries that I never would have imagined myself capable of. In the beginning there would be a point where I could no longer feel the rawness in my throat from the abuse of my vocal cords, and even my strangled noises became nothing but dry chokes and sobs.

I couldn't tell you how long it took me to realize that it would be easier to not recognize the noises entirely and how infinitely longer it took for my world or what was left of it to drop into a stale unnerving silence. I was aware the same sounds were probably there: the rusty head splitting creak of hinges, the sickening pleased _kolkolkolkol_ of the demonic violet eyed Russian, or the grotesque crunch after his boot has connected with my gut breaking yet another rib that had only just healed. I had to kill all my senses to get rid of the sounds. First I had to dull the sensitivity of my nerve endings, so every kick, whipping and tearing of my flesh wouldn't shake my system. I had to pretend I couldn't see the new torture item the psychotic Russian held in his hands every time he visited my prison. Pretend that I couldn't taste the bitter iron as blood filled my mouth from biting down on my tongue to the pain and unrelenting abuse. All this so I could no longer shake in fear at the distinct clicking of the Russian's boots as he stopped before my cell for his torture session. I had to play dead for so long and my success in this was frightening as though my mind was separate from my body.

I tried to remind myself, every time I felt my concentration and resolve slipping my mind would escape to her. I had to constantly remind myself, his hits aren't as hard as hers, the sight of my battered body not as saddening as the sight of her tear streaked face, the dank smell of the prison and the rare crisp sweet winter air that was almost a treat that wafted into my cell on occasion not as pleasant as the scent of the characteristic flower she would always wear in her hair .

She is Elizaveta. My one salvation, the one thing I could hold onto. I would imagine her smiling face, my perpetual source of sunshine though I never admitted the fact to her in person I told her so every time in my dreams. Yes, at least I was still granted the ability to dream. Though my times for sleep were fitful and brutally short, I could for a few moments escape to that same field on that bright summer's day.

---

Sun filtered onto the meadow and I lay in the grass in my tunic. It was probably an incredibly fruity sight, a young man laying in a field full of flowers, but I couldn't help myself. After training I found my feet directing me to this place, the serenity of it filled me and that is how I found myself laying where I was. I breathed in the strong scent of flowers, it wasn't often that I could enjoy something like this, I am a nation of conquest of course. I couldn't be bothered with the luxury of rest. But I couldn't help but feel a slight tinge of regret that I didn't know a single name of any of the flowers.

That over there-- that was a dandelion, right? Dandelions were red. Or were those Sunflowers? Definitely sunflowers. I smirked to myself, oh yeah, I am so awesome I can totally identify flowers on whim. In my state of tranquility I felt my eyelids slip over my eyes, my body ready for a blissful nap.

That was when I heard the rustling. It was so faint I almost missed it. My brow twitched slightly in recognition, my eyes still closed, as I strained to identify the direction of the sound my hand hovering inconspicuously over my sword. It had to be a person, there were no predatory animals residing in the meadow. In the next moment there was a burst of movement from my right. My eyes shot open, I rolled aside, unsheathed my sword and blocked next incoming the blow in the same movement. Metal clashed against metal and my sharp red eyes focused on passionate green ones. Green, as deep and irritating as ivy. My attacker grinned holding their sword against mine, our strengths equal as we both stood our ground.

"Did I scare ya?" her feminine voice reached my ears, I had only recently recognized it as female, and it was still a bit odd for me.

"Pfft, as if the awesome me can be scared by _you_. What do you want?" I scoffed parrying her blow non-threateningly as she backed off compliant.

She ran her hand through her hair, tucking a stray piece that slipped from her ponytail behind her ear before slipping into an attacking position "I wanted to spar with you, so I came to visit". Her eyes sparked playfully as she stared me down sword pointed in my direction. I responded by sheathing my sword.

"No way, I can't fight a _woman_. Besides, I'm taking a break."

I could feel her glare as I flopped back onto my spot on the ground. "Oh come ON. That's your excuse for everything lately," she whined, the high pitch of her voice irritating me. I ignored her, settling for a wide yawn and staring up at the endless sky. I heard a sigh and a disgruntled '_fine'_ as she sheathed her weapon and fell back lazily into the grass next to me. I turned to her in disbelief, honestly expecting her to just leave after that. After all, she was usually the one annoyed with me not the other way around.

She stretched out onto the grass, arms locked above her head as she did so. I noted she was quite tall and skinny, not having grown into her height yet which was why I easily mistook her for a young man before. She also had sort of sharp angles in her face characteristic of a man; it was not a harsh masculine sharpness, it's edge softened and I would go as far as to say it was kind of… _attractive_. The fact she wore her then short hair up in a ponytail- she still does, but her hair is a lot longer now- and warrior's garb didn't help any in defining her as a woman either. But now, no mistake could be made. Even through the sleeveless tunic, there was a visible curvature of breasts there. Her muscles relaxed again, chest heaving in a sigh, as she brought her arms to fold right under her development. She turned her head towards me catching me staring, her face contorting in query, "Whatcha staring at Gil?".

My mouth still agape I felt my face flush. I couldn't just tell her exactly WHAT I was staring at. My mind grabbed blindly in the darkness for any plausible reason to replace my true purpose. "Y-You crushed the dandelions!" I shouted indignantly, mentally high-fiving myself for my awesome acting skills. Her face was still a question mark when she shifted her weight onto her elbow, lifting her upper body slightly off the ground and looking back to survey the damage. Surely enough, the flowers that were once there were crushed and damaged. She frowned pointing an accusatory finger, "You aren't any better". I mimicked her actions, checked beneath me, and surely enough the flowers were crushed beyond recognition. "So? I don't care about dandelions and sunflowers!" I defended falling back with a thud to emphasize my point. Her brow furrowed as she lay back down carefully, "What are you talking about?".

"Those flowers you are sitting on!".

"There ARE none" she replied.

Exasperated I shoved her aside, pointing at the crushed red blossoms, "THERE. **Dandelions**"

She looked about ready to hit me at any moment, nose scrunched up, fist clenched. Before long her face relaxed with an insight I was not aware of. Her fist unclenched, the left corner of her lips quirked upwards but she fought to keep them pursed to hide an impending smile, instead settling for squinting her eyes in amusement. "Oh I see now…You seriously think _these_," my brown haired companion indicated with a sweep of her arm towards the field of dotted red flowers, "are _dandelions_?".

Catching on that I might have made a mistake I quickly blurted. "Of course not you stupid woman! I know they are **sunflowers**! I just wanted to--".

I couldn't even finish my sentence when Elizaveta's face split into a huge grin at the word _sunflower_. She let out an uproarious laugh falling back into the grass, giggling, and wrapping her arms around her stomach. "AH HA HA! Mein Gott-- it HURTS!" she managed through laughs kicking her legs and curling in on herself.

I could feel my anger boiling and my face turning as red as the 'sunflowers'. How DARE she laugh at the awesome me? What the hell was she laughing at anyways? "What's so funny?" I demanded standing over her now.

She gradually stopped laughing and rolling around in the grass to turn to me staring at me dead in the face her expression back to normal. I remained still, straightening my back, staring squarely back at her clearly not amused. After a brief moment of silence, her face broke into that famous grin yet again. "He seriously doesn't know!" she exclaimed joyously the fits of laughter shaking her frame again as her eyes watered as she pointed right at me.

Laughing.

Right-in-my-face.

That was the last straw. I lunged forward grabbing onto her ponytail. She shrieked at the sudden pain, raising her hands to the top of her head. "Ouch, what the hell Gil, let go!". I pulled harder, the hair tie slipping as I tried avoiding her swatting hands. "Not until you tell me why you are laughing!". It probably wasn't a good idea to aggravate her, but I only realized this when there was white dotting my vision closely following a sharp blow to my stomach. Needless to say, I let go of her hair, staggering a few steps backwards taking the hair tie with me as I gave my stomach some much needed attention.

"What the HELL Prussia!" she shouted using my country name. "So much for not attacking a girl; it is below you to have a fair spar with me, but it is fine to attack as long as I am unaware. You fight more like a woman than I do, you lying prick" she berated me. I had yet to recover, else I would've replied, I settled for a labored wheeze. Damn Elizaveta can sure hit **hard**. "And I was laughing at you," she continued not yet done with her lecture, "because you are a _complete_ _**moron**_!"

"Am not!" I retorted recovering enough to talk back, recoiling involuntarily when she shot me a penetrating glare.

"Yes, you are! You are honestly convinced _these_" she pointed to the flowers again, "are dandelions or sunflowers".

I just glared back, not seeing the point of this.

"Sunflowers and dandelions aren't red, they are YELLOW. These are red _TULIPS_," she explained stressing the words yellow and tulips. My face colored yet again feeling like an idiot for making that stupid excuse in the first place.

"S-so? I'm a warrior, what do I care about flowers? I have no time to ponder such a womanly thing," I retorted.

She stared at me, the same grimace set on her lips, but there was something in her eyes the belied her expression. Her eyes were still fixed on me but they seemed to glimmer, was that amusement I saw? My thoughts were confirmed when her lips began to curve back into that smile. She was going to start laughing again, I was sure of it!

"It's not like you are any better!" I found myself snapping in defense, "All these years everyone -even _YOU_- thought you were a man".

Her smirk halted in place, green eyes wide, mouth frozen before reforming stiffly into a thin line. "Even worrsseeee," I continued, my spirit set aflame from her rebuke I could feel my usual confident smile make its way back onto my face. "You thought a penis was something you grew overtime!" I scoffed self-righteously at the memory and added as a challenge, "who is an idiot now?"

Her face, was _priceless_, green eyes as wide as saucers, a beautiful stark contrast to just how red faced she was getting. '_Just like the __**tulips**_' I added internally as I let loose a booming laugh,

right-in**-her**-face.

I was blind-sighted in the next moment and tackled painfully to the ground. She pinned me down effortlessly, legs on either side of my stomach as she directed a flurry of fists at my face. I took a few hits, the more painful ones dealt to my right eye and nose before shoving her off. We both were quick to jump to our feet, backing away from each other, warriors' blood boiling. Growling, Elizaveta charged first letting out a thundering battle cry and I reciprocated. We met midway, kicking, punching, and pulling until we both fell to the ground rolling around trying to gain the upper hand. Grass was uprooted and tulips obliterated left and right as we wrestled. At last I managed to muster the last of my waning strength to pin her down, hands tightening in a firm grasp around her wrists effectively stopping her. She looked up at me, panting, the fire subdued in her eyes, cheek swollen from the blow I dealt her earlier. We simply sat like that, catching our breath both of us clearly too tired to continue. I felt her frame tremble beneath me as she stared up, lips in a tight line, hiding a smile. The muscles on my mouth twitched as well, my actions identical to hers. We burst out into hysterics at the same time; I shook so hard I simply flopped onto the grass next to her.

I could feel my face ache from the blows she dealt me but it didn't stop me from laughing. "Y-You," I managed between laughs, "you look so stupid with that puffy face!".

Our laughter echoed all the louder. "W-w-well," she began having even more trouble stringing together words, tears in her eyes. "Y-you _ARE_ stupid!".

Somehow we found this pitiful comeback hilarious and hollered. Our bodies quaked harder as laughter bubbled from within us, filling the air as we lay in a field of destroyed tulips with wide grins on our bloodied faces. We were _both_ so stupid for fighting over nothing, but we didn't need to exchange words to know that. After the hysterics died down we just lay there catching our breath. I looked up at the sky contentedly; it was already a burning orange color. Just how long were we out here? I turned to her grinning. Her cheeks were starting to swell up, face red from exertion but her green eyes glimmered back. "You look horrible," I noted.

"At least I don't look like a blowfish," she retorted pinching my swelling lips together chuckling.

"Ow," I mumbled until she released me. Smirking I added leaning forward waggling my eyebrows, "You wish you could kiss lips this plump and sexy".

She looked at me thoughtfully before redoubling in laughter. I laughed too not noticing when she leaned forward closing the space between us and planting a quick peck on my cheek. I could only stare after her in mute shock as she stood. "As if I would kiss such a bloody mess," she grinned before turning to leave without looking back. "I'll see you later Gilbert".

---

These mental preparations were probably why I couldn't hear, feel, or see when the heavy chains clasped cold against my ankles and wrists became undone falling to the floor with a deafening clang. I was startled into consciousness by a rough yank. Dragged to my feet, the offender held me up by my hair to meet their eye level. The sharp sudden pain and movement caused my induced blindness and numbness to falter and I found myself staring into blurry orbs of smoldering violet. With his free hand, the man struck my face mercilessly causing me to bite my tongue, the all too familiar taste of blood filling my mouth. My chin was tugged back to face him and despite the blow my vision began to sharpen, the lifeless glaze I had fought so hard to maintain crumbled so effortlessly the powerful eyes staring at me making me feel even weaker.

"Are you awake now, Gilbert?" the mockingly childish voice coed softly. Of course the first sound I have heard in thirty years had to be this bastard's condescending voice. Too weak for a verbal retort I narrowed my eyes, filling my gaze with as much malice as I possibly could. Yet even this effort ineffectively portrayed the infinite amounts of toxic hate boiling within my soul. The small smile on the man's face only widened at the subtle response, "Very good da".

Without warning the man tossed me out the cell door as tough I weighed no more than a rag doll. A short gasp escaped me as my back connected with the wall. Pain shot out from that point into a million tendrils snaking all across my back sending waves of agony throughout my whole body. Though my muscles were weak from inactivity and the intense pain raking through my system I managed to get up. And I stood; I had not stood in years, lifting my head as I bore my eyes in those of the man who imprisoned me. He simply smiled at me, face alight in amusement.

A sensation other than pain pumped through my body. Adrenaline slowed my surroundings and my thoughts sped and senses heightened two-fold. I was suddenly very aware of the frailty of my body in this state, my bruised and battered condition, and the heady taste of iron in my mouth. Like a good warrior I still knew my limitations, yet I didn't care at this moment.

I was freed from my cell at long last, free for the first time in many, many years. Though I was free my rage fueled by bitter bloodlust and hatred still enslaved me. I _craved_ payback. As a free man the first thing I wanted to do was run right back in there and slay my captor. I wanted to feel the satisfaction of grating that sick bastard's face into the concrete wall until his smile was beyond recognition, those cold violent eyes go sightless and every inch of the walls were painted rust-red.

I wanted to feel his life drain away,

and I wanted to do this with my own two hands.

I twitched forward and staggered into an unsteady charge, my body far too unaccustomed to the fine-tuned movements it was once capable of. I barely cleared the doorway when two bodyguards appeared out of the periphery effectively pinning me back against the wall. I hissed when my head slammed against the bricks. Tears born of pain and frustration began forming at the corners of my eyes and I could feel the uncomfortable warm sensation of blood flowing down the back of my neck.

The man with the cold eyes tsked adjusting his scarf as a businessman would a tie as he stepped out of the cell. "Gilbert, my friend, why must you make things so difficult for yourself we are just trying to release you. You want to leave, da?".

"Don't you dare call the mighty Prussia by name you fucking Russian," I growled, "you are no friend of mine". The man was likely playing mind games again, it was one of his favorite pastimes to dangle the idea of freedom until I broke down.

The man frowned slightly adopting an injured intonation, "After all the years we have known each other yet you still treat me so coldly? Gilbert, I am hurt".

"I am Prussia!" I shouted, head throbbing as my voice echoed through the dungeon. This mocking gesture was almost more unbearable than his smile, I wanted to rip off his face but my hands were still held prisoner by the two guards.

Russia took a few deliberate steps forward before bending down so we were at eye level. "Do you still insist to call yourself that Gilbert, really? You are no longer a nation, you are but a weak, stateless, _human_," he said smoothly, I could smell the sharp distinct smell of vodka as his breath ghosted over my face.

Gathering saliva in my mouth I spit in his face. A trail of yellow trailing down his cheek, I grinned in accomplishment.

The Russian made a sharp sound; the guards reacted started to beat me for daring to sully their "Mother Russia". Suddenly there were the sounds of heavy footsteps and a deep voice hollering down the dungeon.

"STOP," bellowed a deep voice. The fists relented and the guards paused looking towards the intrusion. The clap of steel-toed military boots against concrete resounded through the hall. My mind felt so fuzzy at this point having taken too many beatings at once but I knew that voice anywhere.

The footsteps came to stop not too far away. My face was pressed to the ground by one of the guards so I could appreciate the new contender's meticulously shined boots. My eyes widened, why would he be here? He wouldn't be here unless I was free. Was I?

"You agreed to release him at 06:00 hours. It's 06:01.32," the person stated, I could practically see him glancing at his military issue German watch in my mind's eye.

A chuckle and an order was given before the guards released me from their hold shoving me roughly into the direction of the newcomer. I staggered close to collapsing from the dizziness and lack of energy. I felt so tired, so relieved like I was floating in a surreal dream-like plane. Before I could fall strong hands clamped at my upper arms and secured me upright. I looked up knowing what to expect: Blond hair combed back, blue eyes, a stern face, mouth set in a frown. '_He really never changes, this kid,' _I find myself thinking.

A smirk made its way across my face, "Hey West". I was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug, so uncharacteristic of Ludwig I would've been convinced this was all a dream if not for the pain surging through me.

"Welcome back, East"

----

**Author's Note:** Laying in a field with bruised faces and destruction all around is the epitome of romance in Prussia's mind ;; I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, this fic is a two-shot and I worked pretty hard on it. Hetero pairings don't get much love in this fandom at all 8D Here's to hoping this was angsty enough for you and still got a few of you to laugh. Thanks for reading, reviews, critiques and corrections will be loved!


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